


Star-Crossed

by SatanicVenus



Series: FFXI Collection [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XI
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-23
Updated: 2010-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-13 08:33:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatanicVenus/pseuds/SatanicVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kingdom of San d'Oria and the Republic of Bastok have always been battling with each other. Now two of their best agents are pitted against each other...What do the fates have in store for them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wilderness

**Author's Note:**

> This is Book #3 in my FFXI collection.  
> In this story Cheyenne and Valron finally meet in a battle of wits and skill.

Outside the native town of Kazham lays the lush jungle, a dangerous beauty. Many adventurers have tried to travel these lands only to discover their death was imminent along the winding trails and tunnels. If you manage to travel deeper and deeper you many discover the hidden city underneath this facade of paradise.  
It was from one of these access tunnels that what looked to be a small boy was sneaking out. Quickly the boy looked around and ducked off around a corner. A moment later the cap came off and out fell shining copper hair that had once been much longer but was now cut above her shoulders. Next clothes were being tossed to the ground, her tail finally getting a moment to unwind after being tucked in pants all day. She unraveled the layers of tape around her chest and gave a large sigh of relief; it felt good to be out of that get up.  
Cheyenne jumped naked into the cool water and tried to relax. She had been masquerading as a man within the Tenshodo for near a year now and it was getting rather tedious. Her hopes were held high that soon she would be able to leave this place and be back to her beloved home. She had sent a variety of information back to her king. She knew that the rogues and miscreants in the organization seemed shady, but further then commerce and money, these mercenaries seemed to have nothing more on their minds but themselves. She had determined they were of no real threat to the kingdom of San d’Oria and knew her superiors would believe her. She had formed many ties on this assignment; ones that she knew would do her well in the future. Yet in it all she was not impressed at this vile place, she wanted out.  
She heard approaching footsteps on the path and dove under the water to hide. Holding her breath and concentrating to listen she suddenly heard a familiar whistle float through the air. She allowed herself to surface and looked around, her gaze landing on a bush not far from her.  
“Come on out, and you better have a good reason for interrupting me.” A young elvaan slunk out from behind the leaves and frowned, which in turn made her laugh. “You’re getting better but you’ll never be able to get passed me, Jaquean. Now tell me what news you’ve brought.”  
The boy sat on the edge of the water and soaked his feet, smiling at his boss, “King Destin says you wo’k wit tha Tenshodo up, as ‘oon as you can git out you ta do so...”  
A smile graced her lips at the thought of going home; at least till she saw the sorry look he was giving her. She sighed, “And the bad news...”  
He frowned again, “Novalmauge need you ta make residence in Kazham, he ‘lieves a repooblic agen is gonna be operatin in tha jungils and want you ta intacept.”  
“Eww, not Bastok.” She made a gagging sound. “Oh well, leave the report by my clothes. Take the envelope sitting there to Novalmauge.”  
He grinned at her and rushed off, following orders as usual. Cheyenne sunk back into the water to get a few more moments of peace.

Spending time in the home of her mother’s ancestors was definitely an adventure. She kept her heritage a secret as usual, she didn’t wish to cause conflict or put herself in danger, but this gave her the chance to investigate for herself who her mother really was. She had found out long ago of Katina’s history in Windurst, but before her landing in the mainland it was a mystery. Apparently Katina had been exiled from this land because of her docile manner. She had refused to fight and for that her family turned their backs on her. If only they knew she had fought in the end and it had caused her demise.  
Cheyenne spent time among the natives and was welcomed into the community. She lived with them, she fought by their sides, and in the end she was granted the markings of a warrior. Chey peered down into the ocean after the ceremony and saw the lines adorning her face. She smiled to herself, she could get used to them, they rather accentuated her fair features. Up until now her body had remained unmarked except for scars and the small brand on her hip, given to her at birth declaring her as royal. She wasn’t at all sure her family would like these new marks, but oh well, she did.  
She freely immersed herself in the culture and enjoyed living as an adventurer, but inside she knew it wouldn’t last. No matter what she was doing she always had a close eye on the comings and goings of the airship. She had ‘friends’ watching every possible point of entry onto the island. Until finally one day she received word of movement from the man they were waiting for.


	2. The Lure

Being an adventurer had its perks, pretending to be a stupid one had its fun. She quite enjoyed not having to be in charge or make decisions. Even though she tended to despise the people around her, she had to respect them. If someone in her employ was acting the way she was she’d probably be tempted to do more then fire them.

“Oh no…No! No! No! I can’t do it, you know I can’t!”  
“I know you can, so stop giving me grief. I’ve got to go and we all think you’re perfect to lead this party through the rest of the day.” The leader was becoming a little frustrated as he watched the normally quiet and sedate mithra stomping her feet and swinging her sword.  
“I’m just a lil’ ole red mage, I can’t handle a whole group, damn I barely found my way here. I’ll get us killed in no time.” She punctuated this last part by stabbing the tip of her weapon deep into the earth below.  
Always the peace-maker, the taru white mage spoke up, “We trust you, you’ve helped keep us alive this long. Now won’t you let the poor man leave before the duke has his hide for being late for his mission?”  
She knew they were right, at least about him having to leave. So she gave a sigh of surrender and accepted leadership of the party.  
After a short farewell, she looked around a bit puzzled, secretly grinning to herself for she was having too much fun. “Grrr…No one is seeking. Well, except a dark knight, what the hell is that?”  
The warrior of the party looked at her with a raised brow, “You’re kidding right?”  
The only response he got was a shrug and another puzzled look.  
It was his turn to sigh, “Just invite him.”  
“See! You shoulda been leader.” She stuck out her tongue, but quickly sent the invite.

A lone dark knight stood on the edge of the jungle looking about. To anyone else he was merely searching for a party to join in the ever present fray with the beastmen, but in his mind he was looking for a girl. To those few who knew him this was a strange concept, for he’d always been a loner, the strong and silent type.  
A successful citizen of the Republic, he had accepted this mission, though reluctantly and under duress. This one was different from all the other ones he had embarked upon, this time he was to seduce his way into the trust of the San d’Orian royal family. The target seemed simple enough, but for a man who enjoyed his own company, he’d rather not…especially with an elvaan.  
He had gotten word through the Bastokan underground that the king had a niece who was quite in his favor. This girl, Cheyenne, had made her way to Kazham and he tracked her down to the fighting in the jungle.  
Big surprise, precious royalty getting her hands dirty. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Oh well, he had yet to find her. In town he had heard that she was a red mage, probably a lazy one at that. He had a feeling seducing this one would take a lot of effort, at least on his part.  
He sighed from boredom and looked around, there were a great many people here today, how was he supposed to find her? Then all of the sudden her name was all he heard as a grin spread across his lips.

He made his way to the camp and introduced himself; he could hear faint whispers between the white and black mages. He was used to this for he knew he had a certain appeal to the opposite sex.  
He approached the warrior, “So where’s our leader?”  
“Oh that darn girl has run off again, scouting something...Just settle in she’ll bring something back on her tail, I’m sure.” The warrior laughed at his pun, but stiffened up at the dark’s confusion.  
An explanation was in his throat when I high-pitched whistle filled the air.  
The knight stood in shock as a short little fur ball ran passed him in a blur with a goblin literally on her tail. It took him a moment to clear his mind and pull his weapon.  
The fight was long and hard only to be ended when the goblin dropped his bomb on his own stubby foot. Everyone was completely drained by that point and settled in for a bit of a rest.

Cheyenne took a few deep breaths then started rattling off her apologizes, “Sorry guys, that bloody bastard jumped me in the tunnel...”  
The whole party cut her off, just willing her to rest. She sighed her defeat and began curing everyone else’s health before taking a knee herself.  
The dark knight kept watching her from the corner of his eye while he rested. A mithra, maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he first thought. He just needed to turn on his charms. When he was fully rested he sauntered over towards his target and sat beside her, extending his hand in polite introduction, “Valron, my lady.”  
His name floated from his lips like a deep fog sliding over her. She felt her heart jump, taking a deep breath to steady herself before raising her eyes to him. Cheyenne spoke a tentative greeting and lowered her gaze once more to concentrate.  
He watched how she kept her lashes down, keeping her icy blue eyes veiled. But he knew that she was examining him, judging him...He could feel it. He also knew that she was being thorough; she didn’t miss anything with her calculating gaze.  
Before he could realize it, she was back on her feet and sprinting off into the jungle again. Brave...Silly but brave. She never took into account her own welfare, but put that of her comrades first.

So he was her prey...Valron. The name sounded foreign to her, though she liked the sound of it in her head. It was weird how a simple look had made her feel a bit weak, she never felt weak before. Maybe she was just coming down with a cold or something. She knew she wasn’t going to enjoy this mission, this man was the right hand of Zeid and she needed to cut it off. With the growing number of dark knights being recruited by Bastok, it put San d’Oria’s own knights at risk. She’d have to work on him; chisel away at his insides with her charm until she found out what she wanted then...well, then maybe the Republic would learn its lesson once and for all.  
She broke into her own thoughts, she had to deal with the current situation, now that she had him she had to keep him, get him alone...After she could get away from these infernal adventurers, it was getting a bit annoying acting the clown now.

She continued her job and led them through the night, spilling beastmen blood all over the jungle floor. When at last they decided to call it quits, it wasn’t soon enough in her mind. As the others began to disperse, making their way to the next destination, he stayed behind. She eyed him leaning against a tree looking carefree and ever so tempting. She smiled to herself, it would be so much easier if he was willing and in her experience they were all too enthusiastic.  
She saw the grin widening on his face when he noticed her looking him over, “So are you in need of an escort back to Kazham, little lady?”  
She raised her eyebrow at him, “Not really, but I wouldn’t mind some company.”


	3. The Suspicion

Just short of the gate for Kazham Cheyenne made a sudden turn into some trees.  
Valron looked at her puzzlingly, “Where are you going?”  
She looked back and smiled sweetly, “It’s a secret.” He followed close behind, if he lost her now he might not get another chance.  
He began to worry because the path was nearly none existent, did she really know where she was going? A moment before he was going to tell her to turn back, a gate came into view. All the time he had spent in the jungle and he had never known of this, he wondered what else he didn’t know.  
She began whispering something through the gate and it opened, the guard on the other side looked over Valron, “Its okay, Khuma, he’s with me.” The guard just frowned and let them pass.

They entered into a village filled with small huts and farm land. Chey nodded and smiled to everyone saying hello, watching as they all glared at the new stranger in their midst.  
“Don’t worry about them. They don’t tend to trust anyone without a tail.” She whispered to her companion.  
On the other side of town, tucked back into some trees was a single house. She opened the door and invited him in. Valron entered and looked around, taking in as much as he could. It was quite small, but then again so was the woman living in it. A table sat nestled in the corner near a fire, and the other side of the room was no more then a soft chair and a pile of books. He spied a set of stairs winding around the tree trunk that occupied much of the space; he could only imagine it led to a bedroom. He propped his scythe against the wall where he had seen her set her sword.  
She motioned him towards a stool at the table, “Come sit, I’ll make us some tea.”  
As he sat he watched her intently. She hung a kettle over the fire and placed a plate of treats on the table in front of him. When the water came to boil, she poured them both a cup of herbal tea and sat across from him, smiling sweetly.  
“Thank you, if not for this I’d be having stale bread and mead in a tavern,” He laughed a little and grinned.  
She giggled, “I’ve never cared much for taverns myself. I like intimate environments.” She veiled her eyes behind her lashes and took a bite of a sweet cake.

He observed her closely, something had to be up. What kind of woman would just invite a complete stranger into her home? Not that he should complain, she was making his job a hell of a lot easier. He saw her licking some sugar off her fingers and he shivered. He found it hard to take his eyes away from her pursed little lips as she ate more. He started feeling the first stirrings of lust…It was a strange sensation to him now. He was a man, he could need the physical pleasure of a woman, but right now he felt he wanted this woman.  
“Are you okay?” Cheyenne looked at him confusingly, “You look a little pale.”  
He cleared his throat, his voice cracking a little when he spoke, “Umm fine…Sorry, just thinking.”  
She took his answer for what it was, a diversion…If he didn’t want to speak he didn’t have to. She stood and walked across the cramped kitchen area, bending down to grab a large pot from inside a cabinet.  
His eyes settled on the back of her bare thighs and he forced himself to look away. _Get a hold of yourself, man_.  
She placed the pot onto a grate in the fireplace, “Just give it a few and you can have some stew, maybe that’ll put some color on your cheeks.”  
“You’re being too kind, really, you shouldn’t.” He basically tripped over the words as they spilled from his mouth.  
“Its fine really, I don’t get to have company much,” another smile, this time showing him a line of pearly white teeth.  
His mind was wandering he knew it was a dangerous thing to let it do. He had to get down to business. While she was stirring the contents of the pot he spoke up, “So are you native to these lands?”  
She would not look at him, “In a matter of speaking, yes.”  
He couldn’t judge her answers without seeing her eyes. “So you weren’t born here?”  
“No.” Her back still to him, she knew what he was doing.  
“Then where, if I might ask?” His eyes burned into her back.  
“The mainland,” She smiled to herself as she tasted the stew.  
 _Oh this was going to get annoying_ , “That doesn’t quite narrow it down, you know.” He tried to say it light-heartedly.  
She turned towards him and placed a bowl of food in front of him. “No it doesn’t.” She grinned at him. She sat and sipped her tea, watching him taste the stew. “San d’Oria, if you’re really interested.”  
He just looked at her, plain faced, “A mithra from San d’Oria…That’s a bit odd isn’t it?”  
She just sat and watched him eat for a few minutes, “My father was elvaan.”  
He nodded in understanding, “This is very delicious, thank you.”  
She only smiled, sipping lightly at her tea and not taking her gaze off him.  
He was starting to feel a bit odd, his head feeling rather cloudy. His eyes began to blur as he looked at her, still she was smiling silently at him. The realization hit him and hit him hard…He tried to stand but only fell backwards off the stool. “You…You…” He couldn’t get up, he couldn’t move, his eyes slowly closing of their own volition.  
She now stood over him, grinning, “Drugged you.”  
Her cold blue eyes were the last thing he saw before oblivion.


	4. The Trap

Valron woke up with a pounding headache. He looked around but saw no more then pitch black. His hands went instinctively out in front of him feeling for walls or doors or, well, anything. He had trouble standing, his whole body weak from whatever concoction that witch had put into his food. He couldn’t believe he walked right into that trap. He was a trained agent; he should have known better, then again who would believe someone so delicate would do that. Fairer sex…Yeah right.  
Loud noises were coming from overhead and suddenly the room filled with light. Above him were bars, he was in nothing more then a hole in the ground and on the other side of the bars stood her. He would strangle her when he got a chance.  
“Ah, you’re awake. How’s your pretty lil head feeling?” She smirked and laughed.  
“You wench, let me out of here!” He grabbed for his head, his own shout splitting it again.  
“Tsk, tsk. Calm down.” She dropped a canister down towards him, “In case you get thirsty.” Then she slammed the door shut again.

Cheyenne rocked in her chair, staring at the trapdoor in the floor. In her lap she held a stack of papers; she had read every word over at least five times. The knight was supposed to gain her trust to gain access to the Chateau. He was going to kidnap Princess Claidie. She had the proof in her grasp, enough to kill him on the spot…But she could use him. Novalmauge wanted information, and he’d get it.  
She leaned over and pushed open the door again, staying in her seat as she looking down at him. “How do you feel now? Calm down any?”  
He only glared at his captor.  
She picked up a small bundle from next to her and threw it down to him. He ripped it open to find some bread and cheese. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tamper with it.”  
As hungry as he was, he didn’t think it mattered much whether she had or not, he started taking large bites to subdue the growling in his stomach. When he was almost finished she threw another canister of water down. He took a drink and looked up at her.  
When their eyes finally locked, she held up the stack of papers, “You know, you should really find a better place to hide something as important as this.” His eyes grew wide in shock, remembering just what was written on them.  
“You have nothing to say in your defense, Valron?” She said his name soft and sweet causing him to shiver.  
He shook his mind free of those thoughts, “Does it matter? You’re going to do what you want no matter what.”  
“True.” She shrugged, “Just thought I’d give you a chance.”  
The door opened across the room and she looked away, “It’s about time Jaquean, is he on his way?”  
An elvaan boy came into view of the cage, “Aye, ma’am, ‘ould be ‘ere by night’all.”  
“Good, good. I hate playing babysitter.” She stood and offered Jaquean the chair, handing him a small gun.  
“What? Did you send for the infamous ‘San d’Orian assassin’?” He yelled up as he saw her move out of view.  
She turned around, looking down at him one more time and laughing; “Now why would I have to do that? She is already here.” She bowed to him and laughed again at the look of utter astonishment on his face. She went to leave again and he heard her shout back to the boy, “If he tries to escape shoot his feet.”

Valron assessed his situation, one little boy with a gun he might or might not know how to use…If she was really the assassin he had heard so much about, his chances were slim. But he’d been in worse places, hadn’t he? He stood and reached up for the bars, pulling on them hard. With no response from the boy, he figured he might get away. The elvaan watched the large man pulling at the steel, he pulled the trigger. The bullet flew through the air just barely missing the prisoner’s foot.  
Valron let go of the bars and stepped back, staring at the boy, “You’re kidding me right?” He laughed slightly.  
“Ya wanna try me stranga?” The kid had a dead serious look on his face.  
Val nervously laughed again but sat down in the dirt, “All right, you’ve got me, kid. I’ll stay.”

Cheyenne came back hours later. She went directly to Jaquean and took the gun from him, checking the ammunition chamber, “You just had to test him didn’t you. Very bad…”  
Valron looked up at her grinning, “You expected differently?”  
“Not really.” She cocked the gun and pointed it directly at her captive. He sat stock still, not sure what to expect from this woman. She aimed and pulled the trigger, the bullet shattered the earring hanging from his left lobe, “And he was trained by me…Test him again and you might regret it.”  
Again she turned and walked away, hearing his shouts following her throughout the house, “You’re crazy! You know that?!”  
She laughed hard and loud, he could hear it echo against the walls above him.

Nightfall came and along with the looming shadows, a knock at the door. Chey rushed to answer it, after a few faint whispers of greeting they moved towards the cage.  
Valron looked up at the new person come to torment him, “Who’s this? Your lover?” He gave a condescending laugh but quieted as the hood fell away from the stranger’s face. “Sweet Altana, you’re the vampire…” He pushed himself back against the dirt wall, not knowing what to expect.  
Cheyenne raised a gun to him again, but Novalmauge laughed and forced her to lower it, “I’m actually used to that reaction by now, my dear. No need to hurt him while I have much use for his knowledge.”  
She glared at the cowering hume in sheer anger, “You be nice, or I will kill you without a second thought.”  
Turning to her guardian she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “He’s all yours, I’m off to Bastok now to round up some more souls for the fire.” She gave Valron one last look before turning and slamming the door to the hut behind her.


	5. The Escape

Novalmauge had to move the prisoner back to San d’Oria. Under the veil of darkness a merchant ship made port in Kazham, Temple Knights loaded a heavy crate on board and the ship set sail for the mainland. Once they reached the shores of Selbina the crate was moved onto a wagon. Slowly they transported their precarious cargo.  
Of all the ways to travel, Valron could officially say a box was not one of his favorites. He had been cramped inside this hell for who knows how long, he’d be surprised if his muscles would still function after this.  
The wagon suddenly stopped and all he heard was yelling and commotion. He screamed out for help. A familiar voice met his ears in reply, “Yeah, man, just give us a second. We’re a bit busy at the moment!”  
After awhile the sounds of swords clashing faded and a banging on his crate followed.  
The face behind the axe was none other then his long time friend, Radel. “Aww, crap, we thought there was booze in here.”  
Valron laughed at his friend’s jest and gave him a hug. “How did you find me?”  
“Pure dumb luck. I knew you’d never take longer then a few days with a girl, something had to be wrong.” Radel ordered the other men with him to head out before more Temple Knights showed up. He helped Val onto a chocobo and jumped on another next to him.  
They began their long ride back to the Republic, Valron informing his friend of all that had happened.  
Radel nearly fell off his stead as he laughed, “You were caught by a girl!”  
“Hush, damn you…She’s not any girl, she’s The Assassin.” The whole group grew quiet, no one even dared to say those words aloud. They all knew the stories, they all feared death by that blade.  
“We need to hurry, when she left Kazham she said she was heading to Bastok…She had my papers, anyone on the council could be the target.” Valron kicked a spur into his chocobo’s side to get it to run faster, all the other riders rushing to keep up.

Upon arriving in Bastok they all rushed through the Metalworks to the president’s office. A solitary guard stood in the office, Valron approached him. “Where is the president? We need to see him now.”  
A blank look occupied the guard’s face, his eyes were clouded over, Radel stepped forward to shake the man only to have him slump over the desk, a dagger in his back. Everyone looked at each other in shock and then around the room, just as the door to the office slammed shut and a small figure stepped out from the shadows.  
“Bravo, bravo,” Chey clapped her hands. “But I’m afraid you’re just a little too late.”  
One of warriors looked at her, “The president?”  
She laughed, “No unfortunately he is alive and well. Visiting Jeuno from what that guard told me. So if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ve got business to finish.”  
“You’ll never get out of town alive, wench.” Valron pulled a great sword and pointed it in her direction, every other man following his lead, drawing their own weapons, ready for battle.  
She sighed, “Never learn, do you…” Pulling her own sword from its sheath and taking her battle stance, a hand hidden behind her back, slipping a dagger from her belt. In one smooth motion her arm extended, dagger flying and piercing a warrior right in his jugular. All eyes watched as the man fell limp to the floor, giving her enough time to cast a sleep spell on the remaining warrior.  
Now she was faced with two, Valron and Radel. She threw a blind spell at Radel and ran for the door, slipping out.  
Valron cursed out, “Stay here, I’m going after her.”

He hastened to follow her, growing up in this town he knew it well, but it would seem so did she. Whenever he turned a corner, she’d already be around the next. He lost her somewhere in Bastok Mines, circling the auction house he checked every adventurer he passed to no avail. He inspected every house and store along Ore Street, still no fur ball. Frustration was beginning to overtake him. Forcing his feelings back into the pit of his stomach, he finally saw a tail disappearing towards the Zeruhn Mines. He grinned and rushed in her direction.  
The mines were dark, the lanterns had been doused. He drew his great sword and proceeded slowly. Absolute silence ruled the air, his steps were careful. He reached out, feeling along the wall, upon finding what he was searching for he pulled flint from his pocket and lit the lantern. The small section of hallway illuminated, his eyes scanning all around.  
A dull pain radiated through his skull as he fell to the ground. Cheyenne walked around him, kicking his weapon out of reach. “Hurts getting hit with the flat of a blade, doesn’t it?” She laughed at him.  
“You little...bitch.” He tried to get up only to have her foot connect with his jaw and send him back down.  
“Such nasty language to be addressing royalty. You need to learn your lesson, but unfortunately I do have an appointment with your president. We’ll continue this another time, I’m sure.” She smiled sweetly and suddenly disappeared into a black hole she conjured.


	6. The Battle

Cheyenne arrived in Jeuno; she had been in the duchy many times before. She wandered around town, always her senses on alert for anything she might consider relevant to her. It wasn’t long before she heard it, the president of Bastok was to be in the Bastokan Embassy that very night…Grinning she decided she had time to take a nap and purchased a room for a few hours.

She snuck through the back alleys of Jeuno under the protection of shadows. No, she hadn’t been officially commissioned to kill this man, but he threatened her little cousin. No one threatened her family, especially one who was too sweet to defend herself. She vowed long ago to keep them all safe and she would never go back on that promise.  
Cheyenne made her move to the back door of the embassy. She sighed as she opened the door to see exactly what she had hoped she wouldn’t. “Oh, now you are just becoming a nuisance.” Her arm cocked back to strike the dark knight, but he caught her wrist in his large hand.  
“Not this time, princess.” He spoke down to her, condescension dripping from his lips. He slammed her back into the wall, pinning her arms above her head. He leaned in close to her, their bodies tightly pressed together.  
Cheyenne began to feel light-headed. The heat emanating from his body was too much to handle. Her eyes instinctively closed as his head dipped close to hers. She could hear his breathing become heavy, near matching the pounding of her heart.  
Valron breathed in deeply of her scent, she smelled so fresh. He nuzzled his face into the warm curve of her neck. He was beginning to lose control; he knew he couldn’t around this woman. She’d kill him if she had the chance. His lips moved to her ear, “Why’d you have to come? Just forget all this, leave. Please.”  
His soft whisper seemed off to her, he couldn’t be saying what she thought…Her rational side was finally coming back and she began to fight him. “Why?! Why?! You threatened my family that’s why, you bastard.”  
His rational side took a little longer; he was still feeling weak against her. Her arms slipped from his grasp and she managed to push him away.  
“If its not today, it will still be someday. That man has been marked for death and I will be the one to send his soul to the depths of hell.”  
He couldn’t fight her on that, he had lost his own faith in his president, but he still loved his nation…He’d remain loyal. When he tried to grab her again, she slipped away down the alley. He watched her run off; he hesitated only a moment before following her.

Valron stood on the edge of the Sanctuary of Zi’Tah, he had tracked her here but lost her not far in. He stomped his foot in the mud, this damn storm had ruined everything. He thought of forgetting it, he never wanted to do this anyway…But he knew who she was, she’d come after him sooner or later and he knew she needed to be brought to justice for all the blood she’d spilled. No denying the inevitable, he trekked forth.  
Cheyenne watched the knight from the safety of the tree tops. He didn’t give up easily, he definitely kept her on her toes…He was a foe worthy of a good fight and she planned on giving him just that. She leapt from branch to branch following her prey closely. When at last he was far into the sanctuary she grinned, preparing herself.

The rain was falling hard, soaking the earth as lightning split the sky. This was not a place many liked to explore alone. An eerie feeling seeped into his bones a second before he felt a sharp pain in his arm. Valron looked down at his bicep, his armor was sliced and blood trickled out. His eyes scanned the landscape as he drew his scythe for protection. He took a few steps and felt something under his boot, picking it up he examined the knife…She was here. Another knife came whizzing through the air, grazing his ear. He looked up and saw her standing high and mighty on a tree branch, a thought ran through his mind as a bolt of lightning flashed behind her… _She is gorgeous_. She jumped down; landing perfectly with her sword already drawn… _She is deadly_.  
She examined her opponent carefully, sizing him up for this battle. She was as physically ready for this as she’d ever be, hopefully she was psychologically also. She bowed gracefully, taking her battle stance, “Shall we?”  
He gave her a quizzical look then grinned, “Let’s dance.”

Blade against blade, steel clashed as thunder crackled overhead. They exchanged blows over and over as rain drops coated them, soaking armor, but nothing could chill their heated bodies. Motions, actions all moving in symmetrical cadence…Thunder and lightning, the music of their dance, the gods had fated this moment long ago.

Sparks flew as metal met metal, sheer force driving them. Valron’s scythe dipped low, slicing her forearm. She looked up at him in surprise before bringing the wound to her lips and tasting her own lifeblood. He paused, in shock...She grinned up at him showing extended canines.  
“So you carry his affliction?” He could not help but watch her lips.  
“Aye, does that frighten you?” Her tongue darted out licking up the last drop.  
“Not really, will just make it a bit harder to kill you.” His grin widened as he raised his scythe once again.  
She jumped over his blade as it swung down for her legs, her sword thrusting out and piercing through the side of his armor. Her feet were unsteady in the mud causing her to slip slightly giving him the chance to sweep her legs out with the handle of his weapon. Her rear landed hard onto the wet ground, she scowled up at him. He couldn’t help but laugh at how funny she looked with mud spattered over her, but in his enjoyment he never noticed her leg kicking out to knock him back. They both sat staring at each other.  
Cheyenne was the first to jump up to her feet and pointed her sword back at him. She waited impatiently till he was standing before lunging once again into battle. For every move he made, she parried...He was getting a bit frustrated. He decided to try another tactic, he began concentrating, putting his energy into spell after spell. She grinned at his attempts, what damage she took she was able to replenish with her own magic. Again they were at a lost, these two seemed matched.

Both were starting to feel the strain, exhaustion slowing them down. He rushed her, but as she side stepped out of his reach she tripped on a log. Her back slammed into a tree and she winced in pain. Valron stood there looking at her as she regained her senses. She was soaked both from sweat and the rain, her blood as well as his was smeared over her skin, her armor in shreds. He knew he didn’t look much better, but still looking as she did, he felt a tightening in his loins.  
He advanced on her, her blade rising to his chest as he came closer. He smacked it aside, pinning her to the tree and kissing her with all his aggression. Cheyenne went weak against him, her sword falling to the ground. For a long moment the kiss lingered...Until he felt a sudden sharp pain in his stomach. He pulled back and looked down; her dagger tip was pressed into him.  
“Oh, I see how it’s going to be now.” He backed off, grabbing his weapon once more.  
She stood stock still watching him, then taking a deep steadying breath, picked up her sword.


	7. The Chase

The war between these two souls raged on through the night. As the sun began to rise on the new day, Ro’Maeve loomed behind them. With solid ground beneath their feet, they found a renewed vigor. The heat from the sun drying their wet armor and dirt falling off as the mud dehydrated. But neither of them noticed their surroundings, their eyes were locked together. The clashing of steel continued, echoing through the air.  
Cheyenne backed up some stairs as he advanced. A few steps up and she finally met his height. Now on equal ground, as it were, she pulled a dagger in her off hand. Using her sword to fend off his scythe, she drove forward with the smaller blade. With a swift kick he unarmed her second weapon, sending it flying.  
She hissed out at him, bringing her sword blade directly across his torso. He looked down at the deep slash in his chest. Letting loose with a guttural growl Valron brought his scythe high overhead, bringing it down straight at her. Chey raised her sword horizontally, one hand griping the hilt, the other supporting the flat of the blade, blocking his attack. She knelt under the pressure as he continually pushed downward. Her faced turned bright red, her breath catching in her throat...She reached into herself for the power she knew she possessed. Slowly she pushed up, coming to her feet again and with one quick turn of her body, a twist of her wrist, his weapon tore from his hands and crashed to the pavement.

She lifted her sword, the tip grazing his chin. “Ready to admit defeat?”  
His only reply was a wickedly roguish grin. With measured steps he came closer, the normally strong willed mithra felt threatened by the mere look in his eyes. She backed away, matching his motions, her sword beginning to waver.  
“Stop, damn you...What are you doing?” Cheyenne’s voice was increasingly unsteady. “Please...”  
He wouldn’t stop though; he knew he finally had her. She was weak and her soul was crying out for his.  
She fought desperately with herself, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his but she was so very frightened of all the promises held in them. As her final option, her sword being all she had left, she slammed the flat of her blade against his temple...He just remained standing there, grinning.  
Her eyes grew wide and for the first time in her life she was in a state of panic. She turned and ran; wanting nothing more then to be away from him.

Valron wasn’t going to rush himself. She had only one place to go and he’d simply follow her. By the time he finally decided to ascend the stairs it was nearly nightfall again. He entered the building cautiously, not entirely knowing what to expect. Yet when he found her she was on her knees, surrounded by the gods, crying. Had she been crying all this time? Had he crumpled this strong woman, was he the reason she was reduced to tears?  
Cheyenne knew he was there long before his hand rested on her shoulder. She knew but she didn’t care anymore, there would be no winning with him. She felt suddenly at peace as he removed her hairpins and his fingers slid through her hair. This time she wouldn’t fight, for once in her life she wanted to give in, she wanted to listen to her heart...She wanted to be normal.  
He sensed her resistance fade. He knelt behind her grazing the back of her neck in feathery kisses, pulling her into his body. Together they rested, relaxing in each others arms...For the first time, each feeling safe. Soft touches turned to passionate caresses...Ardent kisses curing wounds both physical and emotional...  
That very night, two enemies, opposites in every way became entwined, body and spirit. Soul mates, no longer searching for their match, for they were married here, before the gods in the most holy of unions.

Cheyenne awoke, stretching her sore body and looked at the man sleeping next to her. She couldn’t fully believe she had done what she had. Her life had been devoid of physical pleasures, yet in one night of weakness her entire world seemed to slip out from under her. Suddenly she felt frightened of him again; she needed to get her mind back on track. There was a purpose and she needed to see it through.  
Quietly she picked up her shredded clothes, dressing in whatever she could to cover as much of herself as possible, in her haste not noticing one of her sashes still crumpled up near his body. But at the threshold of the shrine she paused, looking back at his sleeping form. She sighed walking back to him, passing by to examine his armor. She grinned at the rolled piece of parchment in his satchel, tucking it into her waistband she finally turned and left for good.


	8. The Capture

Port Bastok was normally a fairly quiet area, accommodating mostly to travelers. Cheyenne stood on the roof of the Steaming Sheep watching as yet another airship came and went. An eerie feeling was settling in her bones, but she just shook it off and waited. She would not fail this time; she knew of President Karst’s itinerary and today would be the day that the world bid farewell to him.  
She double checked her crossbow and bolts, locking one into position as she lay down on the hot stone roof of the building. Her eyes alert, watching for anything and everything but waiting. When at last the airship flying the colors of the Republic came into view she set her sights. Her bow pointed solid and steady at the exit of the airship agency. She saw him emerge and her sight followed him closely as he walked closer towards her station. She knew he would pass on his way to the Metalworks, her heart beating harder as the perfect moment approached. Her target was there; perfectly fixed...Her finger gently squeezed the trigger sending the bolt sure and true through the neck of her prey. She watched as the pompous man fell to the ground his guards gathering around him.

A grin slowly spread across her lips but was quickly shed as she felt strong hands yank her up from behind and an all too familiar voice rang through the air. “Seize her!”  
As the galkan guards restrained her she came face to face once more with the bane of her existence. His commanding tone turned condescending, “Nice to see you again, princess.”  
Her eyes widen with realization, “You bastard, you set me up!” Her feet kicked up at him, struggling to get away just so she could wrap her hands around his thick neck.  
“Aye, you just killed someone no more important then a peasant. Our president is safely away from your venomous deeds.” He looked deep into her eyes, normally icy blue now were a tempest of rage and all directed at him. “Clamp those irons on her quickly and take her to the prisons.”  
Cheyenne watched him turn away, falling into a moment of shock when her eyes beheld a red sash tied to the handle of his scythe.

Her arms where shackled high above her head and her toes barely touched the floor, these cells weren’t used to being occupied by mithra. She giggled at her own thought, she was nonplussed by her situation but it wouldn’t get to her. Chey heard people speaking outside of her cell and watched as the oversized hume walked away from his post. Her eyebrow rose as Valron walked in and stood a scant few inches in front of her.  
“Tell me you love me...” His face stayed utterly impassive.  
Halfway between a laugh and a cough, she squeaked out, “What?!?”  
“Tell me you love me and I’ll let you go.” He moved closer, she could feel the pulsating heat from his body.  
“Never. I’d die first.” A hiss built up from her throat.  
He blinked blankly at her, he knew she was serious but he still held some hope as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She stayed completely unresponsive to his touch and when he finally pulled back she spit in his face.  
He swallowed hard, his face turning to stone, “Then you die at first light, I can not and will not save you.”  
As he walked out he could still hear the echo of her screams in his head, “I’ll see you in hell, bastard!”

Shortly before dawn the prison guards arrived to escort the mithra to her grave, but they were shocked at what they had found. Valron was summoned to inspect, his eyes widening at what he saw. Cheyenne had vanished. The shackles were coated in her blood as was the wall, for she had left him a message. _Demons have no hearts_.  
He ran his finger through her words, whispering to himself, “Oh but my sweet you do.”


	9. The Search

She was lost. Cheyenne had traveled the world several times over in the past couple months and she could officially say that. Oh no, not physically but emotionally. Since escaping from the Bastokan prison she had been too confused to return home. Her mind was cloudy, her thoughts unclear. Life just made no sense anymore.  
For the first time in her existence she had failed and it was all because of him. He just knew how to get under her skin and into her brain. How was it possible? For so long she had built this stone wall around her and with no more then a look he crumbled it.  
She felt a common tie to him. The blood flowing in his veins held a bloodlust also, though not entirely the same. Hers was a drive for life and death, but his was more of an emotional compulsion. He enjoyed the kill; she sensed that so strongly in his soul. And although she did enjoy the kill, the battle was her real love. She craved the look in her preys’ eyes as she teased them, toying with their lives at the end of her blade, knowing any moment they could die and it was entirely her decision. A kind of cat and mouse game, if you will. (Pun intended...thank you)

Cheyenne kicked at the snow under her feet as she walked across the frozen tundra of the Xarcabard region. Her wrists and ankles were nearly healed now from her escape, but the scars would linger. It was all just another sign of her trade. She knew she could never stop in the defense of her country. San d’Oria was her home and her family meant everything to her. She may never have much in this life, but she’d always have a home as long as she had anything to say about it.  
Oh, but when she was with him it was something different, she wasn’t herself. They may have been fighting on opposite sides, but she felt they thought the same. And their one night together...Well she couldn’t rightly explain that. It was like some other spirit possessed her. The passion overwhelmed her so much it was scary. The flames were greater then in any battle. He was her match, she knew it deep inside, but she was too frightened to admit it.

Slowly she hiked up the incline leading to Castle Zvahl, slaying demons along the way. Today though her sword felt like pure lead in her hand, she just didn’t feel like swinging it. As a young girl Novalmauge had brought her here every year on the anniversary of her mother’s disappearance. Even now she found solace in this frigid environment. Here she could be at one with her past. She laid a snow lily by the entrance to the castle and sat down in the cold snow, hugging her knees to her chest.  
Cheyenne sat there for a long time, tears freezing on her cheeks as she let her emotions take hold. Hours passed and night fell and still she sat alone and cold.  
A brisk wind began to blow, whispers sounded in the wind. She looked up towards the sky in confusion. _My precious baby_...All right so she was officially spooked now, Cheyenne rose to her feet and backed against the wall as snow swirled in circles in front of her. Her heart was pounding, her breath frozen in her throat as a solid form walked towards her out of the snow.  
“Mommy?” She was in shock, her crying renewed.  
 _Yes, baby_...The spectral body reached up and caressed Chey’s face with its icy touch.  
She fell into the arms of her mother, her body wracked with tears. Katina wrapped her arms around her child and rocked her softly.  
 _Its okay, sweeting. You needed me, you’re very confused aren’t you, baby?_  
“Oh yes, mommy. Help me please.” She buried her face into the curve of her mother’s neck.  
 _You don’t need my help, young one. You know the answer; it’s always been in your heart. You are so much stronger then I could have ever been and I’m so very proud of you. You need to be strong now though, you will be needed very soon._  
She looked up into Katina’s cold dark eyes, “What? Why?”  
 _You’ve known it for a long time; you’ve sensed it in your soul. You feel everything, stop denying yourself._ The spirit placed soft kisses upon her daughter’s eyelids. _Follow your heart, my precious, and you can never go wrong. Remember I’ll always be with you; I’m in the wind guiding you forever._  
Cheyenne was soon hugging herself as the form in front of her turned back into snow and blew away in the wind.  
“No! Don’t leave me, mommy!”  
The wind whipped around her once more in a faint whisper. _Hush, my sweet, and just listen..._

Quiet overcame what seemed to be her entire world. She closed her eyes and held her breath. Soon her ears perked up at the sound of energy humming in the air. Perplexed she looked up at the dark castle looming before her. Under the veil of her magic she went to investigate. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing; legions of demons and beastmen gathered chanting in unison. It couldn’t be possible...could it?


	10. The Answer

Cheyenne emerged from the castle in shock. She needed to run, she needed to warn them. She was in such a rush, so many thoughts going through her head that she never saw the elvaan boy coming at her until she tripped over him, falling face first into the snow.  
Jaquean quickly helped her up, “Imma so sowwy ma’am.”  
“Its fine, its fine. What are you doing here?” She didn’t even bother wiping the flakes from her clothes, she just trudged on.  
His young legs hurried to keep up, “Lookin for ya...Gots news on the hoom.”  
She suddenly halted, Jaquean slamming into her back and falling on his rear with a thud. “Valron, what’s wrong?”  
He looked up at her, “Trion ‘as ‘im, gon execute ‘im.”  
“Altana, strike me down.” She growled and picked up the small boy, slinging him over her shoulder and making a mad dash towards San d’Oria.

She snuck into town through a secret entrance in the oubliette and found Novalmauge in his study. The elvaan looked up at her as she plopped the boy into a chair.  
“Well, hello my dear. Where have you been?” He asked sweetly.  
“Where is he? I know you caught him?” She loomed over her guardian as he stayed seated.  
“He’s already been taken to the courtyard; Trion is preparing to do the honors at sunset.” Arms crossed over his chest, he studied his girl closely, “What does it matter to you, little red?”  
She turned for the door, yelling back, “Everything!”

Cheyenne rushed through the doors leading to the courtyard and ran to the middle where she saw Valron’s head on the block. She threw her body over him as Trion began to lower the great axe and screamed, “NO!”  
Trion froze, staring at his cousin, “Have you lost your mind girl?”  
She hastily cut through Valron’s bounds to free him, always keeping herself between him and her family, “No, I’ve lost my heart...To him.”  
Trion dropped the axe to the ground in astonishment, “You what?”  
Pleadingly she looked at her uncle, “I love him.”  
King Destin stepped forward, “Are you sure this is where your heart lays, my sweet?”  
“Yes, uncle...I can deny it no longer.” She stood before the king; his hand raised and gently brushed the tears from her cheek.  
“Then I’ll grant you this. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy and if you’ve found it with him then I can’t deny it either.” He nodded to the guards and they came forward removing the shackles from Valron’s wrists and legs.  
She jumped into Val’s arms and kissed him deeply, Novalmauge stepping out of the shadows finally. When her eyes met his he nodded his consent and she smiled back, lipping the words ‘I love you, daddy.’

When all the excitement settled finally she addressed them all, “I’ve got some news...While I was in Xarcabard I witnessed something terrifying. There is an army gathering in Castle Zvahl. I fear the rumors are true, the Shadow Lord has returned.”  
Valron stepped forward, putting his arm over Chey’s shoulders, “Then we shall face him together, my love. I’ll fight by your side for the rest of time.” He kissed her forehead and she smiled at him.  
The king and Trion nodded in acceptance. Trion stepping forward and offering his hand to the hume, “You’ll be welcomed for training into our ranks whenever you wish...But if you hurt her, nothing will stop the axe next time.”  
The two knights shook hands and grinned at each other.  
At last Novalmauge stepped into the group and pulled Chey into his arms holding her tight. He whispered in her ear, “I hear your mother visited you.”  
She looked up at him in awe, “How did you...” Her words were cut off as his finger pressed to her lips.  
Noval continued holding her and turned his attention to Valron, “You have to make me one promise, young man...You keep her and my grandchild safe.”  
Valron’s eyes grew wide, his gaze flying back to Cheyenne, “You’re...pregnant??? I’m going to be a...”  
He fell to the ground in a dead faint and everyone laughed.  
Cheyenne walked up to his unconscious body and poked him with her foot, “Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _~Surrender yourself to the Bloodlust...Taste the warm crimson melt on your lips, sliding down your throat.~ My love has claimed me, He is the one I desire, the one who holds all my passion, I am His forever more...~_ -Cheyenne
> 
> ~~~
> 
> This is the end of Book 3.


End file.
